CSI: Briefly
by azulfanatica
Summary: Tragedy, romance, adventure...what will happen next? "CSI: Briefly" is an ongoing compilation of various vignettes and short stories. All characters, episodes, and genres are fair game.
1. Mouse Trapped

A/N: "CSI: Briefly" is a compilation of various vignettes and short stories that I will update periodically. All characters, episodes, genres, and ratings are fair game. Unless I indicate otherwise, each piece stands alone. Not beta'd. Read and Review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"Mouse Trapped"

Set sometime after ep.4x06, 'Under Suspicion'

Rated K+

* * *

"What the #*! is the lousy *!#^ I'm never #!%&…"

Sergeant Rick Stetler was having a bad day. His alarm failed to go off this morning, causing him to wake up an hour late. He couldn't take his usual time to perfect his appearance, so now his shirt was wrinkled and his untrimmed sideburns looked a little ragged and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. He realized half-way through the day that he was wearing two different color socks.

Now Rick sat in his office (in a swivel chair that was refusing to swivel) blotting ink out of his slacks from a faulty pen and wondering what the _hell_ was making all that noise. For two hours, he'd been attempting to focus on a script for tomorrow's big press conference. And for two hours, a small scratching noise had grated on his nerves. Rustle, scratch, shuffle, scratch.

He'd had enough. Stalking to the far side of his office, Rick jammed his ear up against the wall. "I swear, if Dolores is still using that stupid typewriter..." He was muttering to himself— not a good sign.

It wasn't a typewriter, though. He realized the noise was _moving_, and he followed it lower and lower, then to the left toward the adjoining wall. It stopped, and Rick heard a 'scratch, scratch.'

He groused and stalked back to his desk, snatching the phone roughly off the receiver and viciously punching three numbers.

"Maintenance."

"Yeah, Sergeant Rick Stetler. Can someone please explain to me why there is a _mouse_ in my office?"

"A mouse, sir?"

"Yes, a mouse dammit! You know, round ears, tail, tiny feet _covered with infectious diseases."_

"I don't know, sir."

"Well, I suggest someone comes and gets rid of it! Fast."

Larry in maintenance thought about that for a moment. Now, if someone asked nicely, he wouldn't mind a task so small as catching a mouse. Mr. Stetler never asked nicely. Larry looked over his shoulder at Pete and Armando, taking a break and catching up on last night's game.

"You know, Sergeant, I don't have any men to spare right now. We can get to you… tomorrow, about three o'clock."

"Not good enough. I need someone here now."

"I just can't do it, sir. I'll put you down for tomorrow. Have a good afternoon, Sergeant!"

Rick heard the dial tone and looked down incredulously at the phone in his hand. This was an outrage. He replaced the receiver, grabbed his keys, and barreled out the door.

Twenty minutes later, he was back in his office after a trip to the hardware store down the street. He carried a bag of mouse traps in one hand and a box of bait in the other.

Twenty minutes after that, Rick was once again sitting in his broken swivel chair, trying to write his speech with his broken fountain pen. Three dozen mouse traps were scattered around his office, loaded with bait and waiting to spring. His eyes darted skittishly from corner to corner at the slightest noise.

"SNAP!"

"Aha!" Rick shouted in triumph an hour after he set the traps. He sprang out of his chair and grabbed the old baseball bat he kept on the shelf behind his desk. In his rush to kill the blasted varmint, Rick failed to see the computer cord that ran from his desk to the plug on the wall.

He went flying. "SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAP!"

"Freaking #*! and the *!#^ this is #!%&…"

Sergeant Stetler lay on his back in the middle of his office floor, thirty some-odd mouse traps attached mercilessly to his body. Rick felt a small movement on his leg and began to kick furiously, to no avail. A small, spiteful looking creature scampered up to sit on his chest. It looked him straight in the eye, and he swore the little scourge was laughing at him.

"Rick, I need those—" Horatio stated as he walked into Stetler's office. He caught sight of the man and stopped dead in his tracks. A disheveled Rick was sprawled on the floor, baseball bat in hand, covered in spring traps and shooting daggers at a mouse with his furious eyes. A cute, furry little mouse that was perched curiously on his chest, safe and sound.

With eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face, the lieutenant said, "I don't even want to know." Then, he turned on his heel and walked away. Horatio Caine was _definitely_ laughing at him.

"I swear to #*! I'll kill the little *!#^ I don't care if #!%&…"


	2. The Little Things

Title: "The Little Things"

Timeline: Set after ep.7x14, "Smoke Gets In Your CSIs."

Rating: K

* * *

Horatio Caine stood at the top of the stairs that led to his glass-walled office. From that vantage point, he could survey a good one-third of the lab. Right now, the only thing capturing his attention was one stubborn, blonde ballistics expert.

Calleigh was struggling to breathe; she hid it well, but he could see the alarm growing in her eyes from thirty feet away. She was standing in the hallway, engaged in a conversation about an ongoing case, and there was no escape in sight.

Horatio watched her chest rise quickly and erratically as she tried to catch her breath. He saw her fists clench into little balls at her side before she crossed them behind her back and forced herself to calm down.

Just as H was about to descend the stairs, he spotted Eric coming down the hall. The tall Cuban picked up on Calleigh's distress even faster than Horatio had. A look of worry instantly crossed his face as he quickly sized up the situation.

From his perch high above, the lieutenant was surprised when Eric didn't stop in the hallway to talk to his best friend. Instead, he simply passed her by, maneuvering himself sideways between Cal and another lab tech.

If Horatio hadn't been watching closely, he might have missed it. When Eric brushed up against Calleigh, he expertly slipped something into her hand behind her back, then kept walking like nothing had happened.

Calleigh's fingers clenched tightly around the object in her hand. The tension in her shoulders relaxed, and a look of relief and gratitude and…something else…washed over her face.

Soon, her conversation ended, and a pair of curious eyes followed Calleigh to the lab across the hall. Safe inside the vacant room, she took the object from behind her back.

It was her inhaler. Three puffs and four deep breaths later, Calleigh could breathe again. She slumped against the wall and closed her eyes for a minute, regaining her composure before heading back out into the fray.

Horatio chuckled to himself. _They're good._


	3. Mythbusters 101

Title: "Mythbusters 101"

Timeline: Set anytime from S.4-S.8

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I own neither Alka-Seltzer nor _Mythbusters.

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_

"What are you guys doing?" Calleigh asked carefully as she approached them on the roof of the parking garage. She'd been looking for them everywhere. Now she was irritated and her feet hurt and she'd found the guys playing around instead of working.

Eric and Ryan both grinned at her, and she couldn't stay mad for long. They were her boys, after all…

"Haven't you seen that episode of _Mythbusters_ where they try to blow up the pig's stomach?" Wolfe asked.

"What?"

"You know, Cal," Eric chimed in, "they're trying to prove whether or not soda pop and Alka-Seltzer will blow up someone's stomach."

"That's an urban legend."

Eric huffed. "Calleigh, that's the point."

"A pig's stomach is the closest to a human stomach," Ryan explained.

"Okay, I get that. But why are y'all out here trying to blow up a pig's stomach instead of down there," she pointed, "doing your jobs?"

"The husband did it," Ryan said matter-of-factly.

"Horatio's already booked him," Eric added. "We're waiting on the next call out."

"Oh, and there's nothing else you could be working on."

Eric walked over to his best friend and placed his hands on her shoulders. "C'mon, Cal," he said gently. "Today sucked. Take a break with us."

Cal rolled her eyes and playfully pushed Eric back a step. "Oh, fine. But only because you asked nicely."

The two CSIs turned around just in time to hear a terrific ripping noise and a massive, watery explosion. The next second, Eric and Calleigh were covered from head to toe in soda pop, Alka-Seltzer, and pig gunk.

"RYAN!"

"Ooops…"


	4. Mythbusters 102

Title: "Mythbusters 102"

Timeline: Set anytime from S.4-S.8 and after the previous story, "Mythbusters 101."

Rating: K

* * *

"Hey, Cal," Wolfe called as he entered the ballistics lab. "Oh, hey Eric. What's up? I thought we were supposed to head out to the Peterson house this afternoon?"

"Lester Albrecht—you know, the creeper from across the street?—confessed about an hour ago," Delko commented. "Where've you been?"

"Court. What's all this for?" he indicated the strange equipment set up at the back of the lab. Calleigh had an old electric oven sitting in the middle of the room, plugged into the far wall and surrounded by tall, re-enforced plastic—the kind of bullet-resistant plastic that divided the stalls on the firing range, Ryan noted.

"Well, y'all got me thinking," she said. "And I wanted to do an experiment of my own. Eric and I are baking bullets."

"Baking bullets…"

"Yeah, remember when Adam and Jamie test the theory that bullets in an oven will shoot off like a gun?" Eric asked.

Calleigh put the finishing touches on the high-speed camera behind the plastic shields, and added, "That's my all-time favorite episode."

Ryan shook his head. "I haven't seen that one."

"Well, get ready," Cal smiled. She and Eric took up their positions behind the protective barrier, and Ryan scurried to follow after them. The oven was already pre-heated, and Calleigh pressed the button on the stopwatch in her hand.

They waited and waited, but nothing happened. "Eric, what temperature did you set the oven to?" Calleigh asked after a while.

"I started it at 250 degrees, like you said."

"Okay, I think we need to change our tactics." She stood up and went over to the wall to unplug the old appliance, then she quickly removed the bullets.

"Careful, Cal," Eric called, worry knitting his brow. She was unprotected in there, and the ammunition was so hot it could still blow.

She grinned at him and rolled her eyes. "Relax, I'm the ballistics expert, right?"

Next, Calleigh turned the oven up to 350 degrees and inserted a fresh set of bullets. Then she reclaimed her spot next to Eric behind the shields.

Ryan watched with trepidation. "Are you sure you should turn it up that high?"

"In the original experiment, they didn't begin to see results until—"

She never finished her sentence, because at that moment they heard a loud, 'POP!' and all three of them hit the deck.

'POP! POP!'

Ryan heard the clang of metal, shattering glass, and the crack of plastic. When he peeked up from his spot on the floor, the first thing he noticed were two pairs of wide eyes peering cautiously out across from him. The second thing he noticed was the large crater of splintered plastic where his head had been just seconds before.

"CALLEIGH!"

"Ooops…"


	5. Career Day

Title: "Career Day"

Timeline: Set after ep.7x13, "And They're Offed."

Rating: K+

* * *

Calleigh Duquesne was an optimist. She was happy and annoyingly upbeat. At least, normally she was.

Normally, she didn't have to deal with fifteen high school seniors who were bored out of their minds and just looking for a way to get out of school. And normally, she didn't have to deal with Jack Spencer.

The ballistics expert had spent the morning babysitting the group of teenagers, showing them the ropes around the lab and telling them about her job as a CSI. They were mildly interested when she told them about her guns, and extremely interested when they went down to the morgue, but other than that, watching grass grow might have been more fun for them. She used too many big words.

Jack was the worst of the bunch. He was constantly disrupting the group, constantly touching things, constantly talking, constantly doing _everything_. And just now, he'd become the straw that broke the camel's back.

"This is stupid," he'd said, coming to a stop in front of the group and halting their progress down the hallway. "I thought CSIs were like real cops. People say you're heroes because you catch the bad guys, but all you do is sit in a lab all day staring at test tubes. Where are the blood and guts? Where's the action?"

There was no space to in the hall to pass by the high-schoolers, so everyone else stopped along with them, including Ryan and Eric as they made their way to Horatio's office.

"That's it," Calleigh declared loudly, rounding on the group. "Jack, there's someone I want you to meet."

"What, another desk jockey?" he sniggered, stealing a low-five from the kid behind him.

"No. One of those _heroes_ you just insulted." Her voice was hard. She grabbed her best friend by the hand and dragged him to stand in front of the unruly teens. "Eric Delko."

"Um, Cal?" he asked in confusion.

"Eric, turn around," she ordered. He sent her a questioning glance but complied obediently. Calleigh traced her fingers gently along the six-inch scar that marred the side of Eric's skull. It had faded, but it still stood out against his dark hair. "See this scar? He was shot in the head," she said coldly. "One hundred and sixty-three stitches, a metal plate, and a bullet permanently lodged in his temporal lobe."

Calleigh shifted Eric's body toward hers and moved south to grab his short sleeve. She yanked up on it to reveal his tricep and pointed to another long, ragged scar. This one was still fresh. "Here's where he was shot a few weeks ago by an assassin hired to kill him by the Russian mob."

She came around to his other side and did the same thing, revealing a third brutal scar. "This is where he was grazed by another shot, right before the sniper mowed down his sister in front of him." The hall was dead silent, the whole lab seemingly listening to Calleigh's small tirade. Eric pressed his lips together tightly, trusting her to know what she was doing.

Her fingers moved up to caress a faint scar on the edge of Eric's hairline. "See this one, Spencer? That's from the time he got beat up with a baseball bat just because he carried a badge."

She reached down to tug lightly on Eric's slacks. "I won't make him show you the bullet hole in his thigh."

Calleigh was glaring at the students in front of her, but not a single one of them could meet her gaze. "You want to look this man in the eye and tell him he's not a real cop, Jack?"

The kid shook his head and shuffled his feet. His eyes darted swiftly to Eric's. "I'm sorry, man."

Delko couldn't help but grin. That was one way to get her point across. He heard Cal sigh tiredly and surreptitiously squeezed her hand. "No harm done—Jack, is it?" Jack nodded. "But I think CSI Duquesne is the one who deserves the apology.

"Sorry, Ms. Duquesne," he said sincerely.

"Listen," Eric said for the whole group to hear him. "Calleigh's right. This job is dangerous. We've all sacrificed a lot to be here. Think about that the next time you hear about a CSI on the news, alright?"

Nods answered all around. A tall, burly kid in the rear of the pack shouted out to Eric. "Dude, is the Russian mob really after you?"

Another boy spoke up to Delko's left. "And did you _really_ get shot in the head?"

A barrage of questions bombarded him and the hall erupted with chatter, both from the students and the two-dozen or so employees scattered within hearing-range. He rolled his eyes and glared at the woman standing beside him. "Thanks a lot, Cal," he murmured before being pulled away by the now curious teens.

Calleigh's voice bubbled with laughter. "I'll take your meeting with H, you take my tour?" she called after him.

"Fine," Eric agreed reluctantly. "But you owe me!"

Calleigh smiled and mouthed a 'thank you,' and then Eric was gone. Wolfe came to stand beside her, and before the two of them set off for their meeting, she watched the raucous group disappear around the corner. Yeah, she owed him _big time_.


	6. The New Guy

Title: "The New Guy"

Timeline: Post ep.3x03, "Under the Influence"

Rating: K

* * *

Valera snagged Calleigh's elbow as she passed the DNA lab and dragged her inside.

"Holy crap, Maxine, you scared me to death!" Calleigh cried.

Max dumped her on one of the stools next to her lab table and said, "Okay, spill."

"Okay, spill, what?" The ballistics expert was genuinely confused.

"Who's the new hottie?"

"The new what?"

"You know, that cute guy who's been following you around all day like a lost puppy."

_Oh,_ Calleigh thought. _She must be talking about Ryan. _"I'd hardly call him a lost puppy, Maxine," she responded, standing up and brushing her lab coat. "His name is Ryan Wolfe, he just transferred in, CSI Level 1."

"CSI, eh…" Valera said thoughtfully. "He sure is cute. You got dibs?"

"Dibs, Max? Seriously? I'm not fourteen anymore."

"Oh, whatever. You know what I mean. Besides, I'm just asking…you saw him first."

Calleigh knew that look in Valera's eye, and she quickly moved to clamp down any potential thoughts the woman might have about match-making. "No way. Don't even go there. He's not my type, anyway," she stated.

Valera grinned. "Alright, alright. I believe you. So…you wouldn't mind if…"

Cal rolled her eyes and started toward the exit. "Oh my God, Max, do whatever you want! You could do a lot worse than Ryan Wolfe. You're right, he _is_ pretty handsome," she winked.

"He's shorter than me," the DNA tech complained. "And he's got to be younger."

"Yeah, well, has that ever stopped you before?"

Valera just giggled and said, "See ya later, Cal." Her eyes were gleaming mischievously.

Calleigh laughed and shook her head in amusement as she walked out the door. _Wolfe won't know what hit him._


	7. When Calleigh Calls

Title: "When Calleigh Calls"

Timeline: Set during ep.5x01, "Rio"

Rating: K+

* * *

Ring, ring.

"Caine."

"Horatio, it's me."

"Calleigh, I just talked to you. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I… Horatio, I've got a really bad feeling about all this."

"Calleigh, listen to me…we will be fine."

"You don't know that."

"No, no I don't. But I promise you we'll be safe, okay?"

"Is Eric with you?"

"Yes, he is, he's right here."

"Can I talk to him?"

"Sure."

"Hey, Cal?"

"Hey, Eric."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just worried about you guys."

"You've got one of your feelings, don't you?"

"Eric, _promise_ me you won't do anything stupid. Promise me you're coming home."

"You know more than anyone that I can't do that, Cal. I wish I could."

"Eric, please. Is this worth it? Would Marisol think this is worth it?"

"I don't know, she's dead…Damn it, Calleigh, I'm sorry. It's just, you gotta know we have to do this. We have to finish this."

"Finish it? Eric, they're going to kill you. I've already lost one best friend. I won't lose another."

"Calleigh, we're running out of time. I've got to go. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I just wanted to hear your voice, anyway. Call me as soon as…as soon as you know something, I guess."

"Deal. Bye Bullet Girl. We'll see you soon."

"Bye, Eric."

Dial tone.


	8. Watch That Next Step

Title: "Watch That Next Step"

Timeline: Set anytime from S.1-S.8

Rating: K

* * *

The redheaded lieutenant was in a hurry. He'd gotten caught up in the hallway talking to Calleigh about a high-profile case, and now he was running late for his meeting with Judge Hollis. Not that he was all that excited about it—the guy was an idiot.

Horatio decided to head for the building's rear exit, thinking he could avoid the inevitable traffic jam at the front elevators. Reaching the non-descript metal door, he flung it open and stepped quickly into the sunlight. He donned his sunglasses in one smooth motion and raced down the stairs two at a time.

Sixth floor, fifth floor, fourth—Horatio made it all the way down to the first floor and the last ten steps when his feet got the better of him and he tripped. He went flying. Instincts kicked in, and Horatio grabbed frantically for the railing. He slid down the hot, sticky rail until he came to an abrupt stop, two steps before the bottom of the stairs with his feet clinging to the metal grates above him.

His heart was pounding and adrenaline pumped through his veins, and Horatio carefully walked his feet down until he was finally standing upright. His head darted nervously side to side, hoping to God that no one saw his impromptu acrobatic act. He sighed in relief when he saw no one nearby. H smirked and strutted a little down the last two steps, straightening his suit jacket and sliding his fingers through his tousled hair. Wait, where were his sunglasses?

Horatio patted himself down but found nothing, and then he turned his gaze to the stairs. He searched the ground frantically, and at last, the man spied his shattered glasses at the foot of the staircase. Shoot!

H was in mourning. He'd had those sunglasses for years. He picked them up gingerly and stowed them safely away in his pocket. There was no way he could fix those bent frames. He sighed and headed on to his vehicle, the spring missing from his step.

The next day, Horatio entered his office and collapsed tiredly in his chair. Something on his desk caught his eye—hmm, that package wasn't there when he left. He reached for the lumpy envelope, unsealed the top, and dumped its contents onto his desk. Horatio read the note and couldn't help but chuckle, despite his sudden embarrassment.

_Next time, slow down._

_-Eric_

On his desk lay a perfect pair of dark sunglasses, complete with polarized lenses and titanium frames.


	9. Mama Alexx

Title: "Mama Alexx"

Timeline: Set during ep.6x06, "Sunblock"

Rating: K

* * *

"Alexx!" Ryan was shouting as he entered the morgue looking for the one person he wanted to see. "Alexx!"

The beautiful M.E. was on her hands and knees behind an autopsy table, trying to repair the drain underneath it. She poked her head up so Ryan could see her. "I'm over here, baby, and keep your voice down for Heaven's sake!"

"Alexx, I'm back!" Wolfe exclaimed excitedly, shaking the papers in his hand. "I've been reinstated."

"Oh, honey, that's wonderful. I'd give you a hug, but…" She stood up and held out her arms and gloved hands to show off her slimy scrubs.

"Aw, it's alright," he said with a bright smile. "Anyway, Calleigh wrapped up her other case and I'm off to meet her on a call-out. I just wanted to tell you first."

"I'm glad you did," Alexx chuckled. "Now get going. You don't want to make Calleigh wait on your first day back."

Ryan darted forward to peck a kiss to the woman's cheek and beat a hasty retreat out the door. "See you, Alexx."

"Congratulations!" she yelled after him with a twinkle in her eye. All she heard was a happy laugh and the ding of the elevator from down the hallway.


	10. Welcome Back

Title: "Welcome Back"

Timeline: Set after ep.6x06, "Sunblock." Continuation of the previous story, "Mama Alexx," but can stand alone.

Rating: T

* * *

"Ryan? Come here for a sec."

Ryan packed up his kit and followed Calleigh's voice. He could hear her, but he couldn't see her. He noticed her high heels kicked off to the side of the crime scene. "Calleigh, where are you?"

"I'm up here!" She peeked her head out, upside-down, from a small void in the fifteen-foot ceiling.

"Jesus Christ, Cal! You scared me. How'd you get up there?"

"I climbed up the bookshelf."

Ryan glanced to his right and saw a tall built-in bookcase. "Okay spider-monkey. What's up there?"

"Come see for yourself," she challenged. She knew he was afraid of heights.

Ryan shook his head vehemently. "No way, nuh-uh. That one's all yours. Just tell me what you can see."

"Chicken," Calleigh teased. "Fine. It's like there's a fully functional apartment up here. It's incredible."

"What?"

"Yeah. The thing is, I can only see two ways in and out. This hatch, and another tunnel at the other end of the attic. I think it goes to the garage."

"Can you get it open?" Ryan heard some shuffling and a few heavy grunts, more shuffling, and then Calleigh stuck her head out.

"It won't budge. Must be locked on the other side. Watch out, I'm coming down."

"'Kay."

"Crap," Ryan heard her mutter a moment later.

"What?"

"I'm going to have to jump." Getting up there was much easier than getting down.

"Calleigh, that's insane. You'll break your legs!" The vaulted ceiling was at least fifteen feet high.

"Relax, Ryan," she said. "Just push the couch over here. If I swing all the way down first, it won't be that big of a drop."

"Here's an idea," Ryan huffed. "Why don't I go find a ladder?"

"Because there's not one. I looked when I first noticed the door. Now come on."

Wolfe did what he was told and moved the couch to act as a landing pad. He stood nearby to act as a spotter just in case.

"Ready?" Calleigh asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay, here I come." She gracefully lowered her body through the hole until she was hanging on the ledge with both her hands. In a flash, Calleigh let go and dropped like a rock to the sofa below.

Her stunt went off without a hitch, except for one little problem—they hadn't accounted for the spring in the couch, and this was a very springy couch. As soon as Calleigh's feet hit the cushions, she bounced into the air and went soaring.

"Aaah!"

"Calleigh watch out!"

"Umph."

"Ugh. Damn, that hurt."

Calleigh had soared right into Ryan and they both crashed violently to the ground. The collision knocked the breath out of both of them.

As fate would have it, Eric Delko and Jake Berkeley chose that moment to walk through the front door, only to stop dead in their tracks. Ryan and Calleigh's heads simultaneously whipped to the open foyer.

"Oh, God." Calleigh was mortified as she saw the expressions on Eric and Jake's faces and realized exactly what this looked like.

She and Ryan were lying in the middle of the floor, flushed and out of breath, and she was hovering over him with her hands braced on either side of his head and her legs straddling his waist.

"_Shit_," Ryan cursed. "Shit. Shit."

The two CSIs sprang apart and leapt to their feet like they were on fire. Jake stood frozen in shock and confusion, but next to him Eric was doubled over in laughter.

"Well, Cal, that's one way to welcome him back," he managed to utter.

Calleigh glared at her friend with narrowed eyes. "Shut it, Delko."

"Calm down," he chuckled, "Only kidding."

"Eric, look nothing happened. I promise. Calleigh climbed up and then she couldn't get down, and then she fell when she jumped and—"

"Relax, Wolfe. It's fine," Eric grinned.

"Why the hell are you apologizing to Delko?" Jake finally spoke up. "I'm the one she's dating."

Ryan got that deer-in-the-headlights look, and Eric burst into laughter all over again. This was too perfect.

"Oh, um, hmm. I don't know. Delko's just…I mean he and Calleigh…shit." Ryan's face had gone from slightly flushed to bright red.

"He and Calleigh, what, Wolfe?"

"Jake, don't," Calleigh warned, taking a step toward him. "It was all just an accident. Come on, we're leaving." As she passed them, Cal punched Ryan hard on the arm and sent Eric a mock glare.

They exited the house, and the two men could hear them bickering all the way to the Hummer.

"Way to go Wolfe," Eric smirked, shaking his head in pure amusement.

"Yeah, well, the guy's a douche. Let him think what he wants."

Delko peered out the front door and made eye contact with Calleigh as she buckled her seatbelt behind the steering wheel. She had the tiniest twinkle in her eye as she looked at him.

"Can't disagree with you there, man," Eric said. "Can't disagree with you there."


	11. Upchuck

Title: Upchuck

Timeline: Set anytime from S.1-S.8

Rating: K+

* * *

"What the _hell_ is that smell?" Ryan exclaimed all the sudden, nose crinkling in disgust.

Eric smelled it a second later, and his eyes started to water. He covered his nose with his sleeve. "God, no kidding. That reeks."

The two men searched around them for the source of the stench, and they quickly realized where—or rather, who—it was coming from.

"Geez, Tripp, what happened to you?"

Frank had walked up behind them in the hallway dragging a barely-conscious prisoner roughly by the collar. The homicide detective's face, shirt, tie, and coat were drenched in a foul-smelling sort of muck. He was still spitting bits of it out of his mouth, and his eyes were shooting fireworks.

"This jackassthought it'd be a good idea to set off a vomit bomb in my face," he spat furiously and threw him down on a bench to wait for booking.

Ryan and Eric shared a quick look and pursed their lips together to keep from cracking up hysterically. Somehow, Eric managed to keep a straight face as he said, "Isn't that the second time this week, Frank?"

The burly man rounded on the CSI and pointed an angry finger in his face. "Don't even start with me, Delko," he growled.

Frank stalked away without saying another word, and as soon as he turned down the next hallway, Ryan and Eric exploded with laughter. From around the corner, they heard a loud voice yell, "I swear to God…" The outburst trailed off into a muffled tirade of curses, and all they could do was laugh harder.

Why was it always Tripp?


	12. Eavesdropping

Title: "Eavesdropping"

Timeline: Set during ep.7x14, "Smoke Gets In Your CSIs"

Rating: K

* * *

"You know, the doctors have you on this nitric oxide to help you breathe better. You can't stay on it forever. It'll turn on you if your lungs don't start to breathe on their own. You gotta get that pink number down to four. Okay?"

He went on and on, talking to his best friend like it was the only thing keeping her alive. Maybe it was.

Eric didn't notice the nurse standing in the doorway. She listened to him spilling his heart to the blonde woman lying unconscious in the hospital bed, and her heart went out to him. She silently turned and left.

Hours later, the handsome Cuban man was still sitting by the woman's bedside. The nurses passed by their room regularly, because, although scenes like that were commonplace in their line of work, there was just _something_ in the way he spoke to her that left them all in a little bit of wonder.

Horatio had come back to the hospital to check on his CSI when he approached a group of five or six nurses. He wouldn't have stopped, except something they said caught his attention. He stepped to the side of the hallway and listened.

"He hasn't left her side once. Not once."

"Do you know his name?"

"I think someone called him 'Delko,' earlier. Not sure, though."

"No, that's right. 'Eric Delko.' He's listed as a next-of-kin in her chart."

"I wish someone loved _me_ that much. Jason wouldn't care if I walked out tonight and never came back."

"Don't say that, Kelly. Besides, I get the feeling they're not really together."

"Are you kidding me? Have you heard him talking to her?"

"No. What did he say?"

"Sarah, don't. That's a patient in there. We have privacy rules, you know."

"Relax, Lena. It's not like it's her medical history. Besides, we're all working this one."

"_What did he say?_"

"He was whispering to her, so I could barely hear—stop it Lena!—but he kept saying over and over again how much he needed her, telling her that she'd make it through."

"Oh my gosh. How lucky is that woman?"

"You know, I went in there earlier and caught the tail-end of something he was whispering. He said, 'I can't imagine living my life without you.' I didn't want to intrude. But, God, I just _melted_."

"Holy crow. You know what I think? I bet you he's been in love with her for years, except he's never been able to tell her! This could be his last chance, and he _has _to tell her. Oh, that's so romantic!"

"You read too many cheap novels, Kel. C'mon, we've got rounds to do."

The group of ladies grumbled a little but disbanded upon the orders of the senior nurse. Horatio stood shocked—or, not so shocked—in the shadows as the nurses headed their separate ways.

He could see into Calleigh's room from his spot in the hallway, and sure enough, Eric was still there. The man's head was bowed and resting on the rail of Calleigh's bed, and his fingers were intertwined with hers.

Maybe he didn't need to check on her after all, Horatio chuckled. Calleigh was in pretty good hands.


	13. Quizzical

Title: "Quizzical"

Timeline: Set between ep.6x14, "You May Now Kill the Bride" and ep.6x15, "Ambush"

Rating: K+

* * *

'_Oh, come on, Calleigh…You want any real attention in this world, you got to have blonde hair and blue eyes. No offense.'_

'_None taken. My eyes are green.'_

* * *

"Don't be a spoil sport, Delko."

"Max, these quizzes are a joke."

Eric, Calleigh, and Valera sat in the break room enjoying their sacred hour-lunch. Well, Calleigh and Maxine were enjoying it and Eric was enduring it as best as possible.

"Oh, come on, Eric! Aren't you the least bit curious?" Calleigh asked him with a crooked grin.

Valera had picked up some kind of fashion magazine from the table when they came in, and she'd spent the last fifteen minutes asking them all sorts of inane questions from one of the stupid quizzes inside.

Eric gave up. "Fine. Dazzle me, Valera," he said sarcastically.

The DNA tech sent him a nasty glare and sat down on the arm of the couch. She turned the pages of the magazine to find the perfect quiz.

"Okay, here's one. 'How Do Your Favorites Stack Up?'" she read. "'What your favorite things say about who you are and what you want in life.' Interesting."

Eric rolled his eyes and Calleigh laughed beside him on the couch. "They're fun, Eric."

"Yeah, real fun. Just get on with it so I can finish my lunch, Valera."

"Okay, cranky. Number one: Do you order Chinese or pizza on a rainy day?"

"Seriously?"

"Answer the question!"

"Chinese."

Calleigh could have told her that easily.

"Number two: Chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry ice cream?"

"Chocolate."

"Would you rather fly or drive somewhere?"

"Fly."

"Which do you do most often? Watch TV, read a book, or listen to music?"

Eric thought about it for a moment before he responded, "Listen to music."

"Okay. Question five: sunset or sunrise?"

"Sunset, definitely."

Calleigh sat next to her best friend with a small smile on her face. So far, she could have answered this entire quiz for Eric and not missed a beat.

"What kind of weather do you prefer? Hot, cold, or in between?"

"Hot. It's better for swimming."

Valera rolled her eyes and scribbled something in the magazine. "Would you take a trip to Europe, or a trip to Asia?"

"Hmm. That's a tough one…"

"You'd go to Asia," Calleigh chimed in confidently.

Max looked up sharply. "Calleigh, you can't answer for him!"

"Nah, she's right," Eric said, looking at the petite woman sitting next to him. "I'd rather go to Asia."

"Fine," Valera huffed and scribbled. "Next: Do you like thunderstorms?"

"Yes. Loud ones."

"Favorite sport?"

"Baseball."

"Night owl or morning person?"

"Night owl."

"Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee."

"What's your favorite color?"

Eric looked over at Calleigh again and caught her eyes with his. He had a mischievous smile on his face as he said, "Green." Cal's cheeks blushed a soft pink and she cocked her head to the side, considering Eric's answer.

The interaction between her two friends didn't go unnoticed by Valera, but she pretended to be absorbed with tallying Eric's quiz answers.

"Hmmm, that's odd…" she said when she was done.

Eric and Calleigh were still having a silent conversation with their eyes, so Eric responded absently, "Why? What does it say?"

Max raised her voice and fixed the two CSIs with a poignant stare. "It says you should stop making goo-goo eyes and kiss her already!"

Calleigh's eyes whipped to Valera's in horror and her mouth dropped open. She was speechless. Next to her, Eric was grinning broadly, trying in vain not to give in to his amusement. Cal's gaze altered between the smug woman across from her and the infuriating man sitting beside her.

"You think this is funny, Eric?" she asked, flabbergasted.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her soundly. Later—much later—when they pulled apart, Eric placed another quick kiss to her lips and whispered, "You're right, Cal. These quizzes _are_ fun."

Valera watched the entire scene unfold, eventually realizing that to Eric and Calleigh, she no longer existed. So she calmly closed the magazine, placed it demurely on the coffee table, and walked silently out of the break room.

Max chuckled to herself as she left. A year of drama and all they ever needed was a little push in the right direction. She hated to think what this place would be like without her…


	14. At the End of the Day

Title: At the End of the Day

Timeline: Post ep.7x01, "Resurrection"

Rating: K+

* * *

"Helluva day, huh?"

Delko stared vacantly into his beer as Calleigh climbed up to sit on the bar stool beside him. A drink was just what the woman needed. A _stiff_ one.

She sighed tiredly. "No kidding.

Today was a day to top all days. Horatio came back from the grave. Wolfe betrayed their trust, kind of. The fact that they weren't surprised Wolfe lied—that was the most disturbing of today's revelations. Horatio was alive again, but their distrust of Ryan? That would stick around for a while.

Other than a few words uttered to the bartender, Eric and Calleigh sat in burdened silence, each lost in thoughts of a day that had tested them to their breaking points.

"Jake came back today," Cal said after a while. Eric couldn't pin the exact emotion behind her voice, and that worried him. He also couldn't decipher the myriad emotions that flooded him with four little words.

"Yeah?

"Yeah." After thirty minutes of sitting beside him at the bar, Calleigh looked her partner in the eyes for the first time. "He rejoined his detail with the Crypt Kings."

Eric mulled over her words, wondering about the concern in her voice, scrutinizing the slight frustration he heard there. "What happened?"

"Oh, you know," Calleigh shrugged. A sarcastic edge crept into her tone that Eric didn't miss. "He confessed to involvement in the shootout, then he blew his undercover op to bring me the weapons used. Oh yeah, and ATF is shipping him off to some secret location."

Eric responded carefully. "That's a big sacrifice to make for you."

Cal looked down at her fingers, playing with the napkin under her glass, before she spoke. "That's what I said." Her gaze returned to her friend's. "He asked me to wait, you know."

Eric swallowed hard. He didn't want to seem too interested, or too eager, or too anything, even though he knew Calleigh could see right through him. He glanced into the distance to keep his eyes from giving him away.

"That so?"

She simply nodded and took another swig of her beer, setting it down a little harsher than she intended. The silence grew heavily between them, again, and finally Eric prodded further.

"What did you tell him?"

Calleigh didn't answer him right away, but when she did, Eric saw truth, and a little relief, in her eyes. "I told him I was done waiting."

Eric's eyes narrowed a bit as he studied her face. "You needed that, didn't you?"

"Closure was good," she stated with a small, decisive nod.

"Good," he said.

Eric held up his beer in a toast, which Calleigh met with a quiet 'clink.' They spent the rest of the night staring at nothing, saying nothing, just drowning in the smoke and haze of the noisy bar. By the time they went their separate ways, the day was behind them.

Tomorrow, it would start all over.


	15. Community Beep

Title: Community Beep

Timeline: Anytime from S.6-S.8

Rating: K

* * *

"Hey, who community beeped?" Ryan groused as he rushed into the spare lab slash occasional meeting room. "I'm in the middle of an experiment, so do I need to be here?"

Calleigh sighed and looked around the room. Natalia was the only other CSI to answer the beep thus far, and they would have to wait until everyone arrived to get to the bottom of the community beep. "Not me." She looked at her watch. "I've got to be in court in thirty." She really didn't have time to wait around for people to decide whether or not they'd answer their pages. Seriously.

Natalia glanced between Ryan and Calleigh innocently. "Well, I didn't call it, either."

At that moment, Valera flew through the door, looking decidedly flustered. "Alright, what gives? You guys never need me for group meeting."

Ryan rolled his eyes and checked his phone for the time. "No idea, but—" His next words were cut short when a group of three lab techs entered the room, inquisitive looks on their faces.

Community pages were generally restricted to the CSIs and senior techs, but these newbies had just walked in looking every bit like freshmen on their first day of college.

Wolfe's eyes shot to Calleigh's, then to Natalia's. "Alright," he said, "this is strange."

Before he had a chance to ask the technicians who paged them, Eric walked in, Frank trailing closely behind. "We've got a suspect on ice, what gives?" the CSI asked his co-workers as he came to a halt beside Calleigh.

She checked her watch again. "We don't know. Have you seen Horatio?"

"Not since lunch." Eric looked around the room in curiosity as two more lab techs joined the rapidly-growing crowd. Lowering his voice and bending down so only Calleigh could hear him, he asked, "Since when did H start beeping the entire lab?"

"That's a very good question," she complained quietly, shifting back a step to make room for the newcomers.

Four minutes later the conference room was sardine-packed with everyone from the CSIs on down, including Mel, the sweet-but-hygienically-challenged janitor. The only person still possibly missing from the party was Horatio, the man who usually called the community beeps in the first place.

As the Crime Lab's second-in-command, Calleigh was about to take charge and send everyone back to work just as she spotted her boss walking down the opposite hallway, obviously looking for someone. She called out his name, and Horatio's attention traveled down the hall, instantly training on the quiet buzz coming from the spare lab.

As he drew nearer, Calleigh could make out a baffled expression on the man's face. "Ms. Duquesne?" Horatio called from the far side of the doorway; there was no space for him past the threshold of the lab.

Unable to maneuver herself through the crowd, Calleigh managed to yank on Tripp's sleeve. "Frank, give a girl a lift!" she cried softly.

He complied, albeit with a grumble ("This is _ridiculous_.") Calleigh couldn't agree more as he hoisted her up so that she could see better over the crowd.

"Trying to break a world record, Calleigh?" the lieutenant asked when her head popped into view, a small smirk playing covertly on his lips.

"Horatio, you're the only one who could beep the _entire_ lab. Are you telling me we don't have a meeting right now?"

The smirk quickly faded and Horatio froze momentarily. Keeping his outward calm, he reached for the cell phone currently holstered on his hip and his fingers came into contact with something sticky: peanut butter.

Uh-oh. He should have known better than to let the little boy play with his cell phone. The toddler had just lost his father, though, and Horatio had no other way of distracting him while he interviewed the boy's uncle.

"Oh, yes. Right," the CSI chief said. He cleared his throat and raised his voice as he spoke again, this time to the entire group. "Just wanted to say you're doing a great job, everyone. Keep up the good work, people!"

The room went silent and Calleigh watched her boss turn around and continue purposefully down the hallway.

"Seriously?"

Frank set the ballistics expert gingerly on her feet, muttering something about how Horatio had lost it, and the crowd slowly dissipated. Extremely slowly, because no one could apparently decide the best way to funnel people through the door.

"One at a time, it's not that hard!" Ryan yelled from the back of the room.

Finally, the lab cleared. Tripp and Delko left to question their witness, Maxine went back to DNA, and the first to arrive were the last to leave. "Never a dull moment around here," Nat said with a chuckle as she headed back to work. A large stack of dusty files awaited her in QD, eager to be organized.

"Yeah, someone should put us on TV," Wolfe commented sarcastically, breaking off in the opposite direction. He was more than irritated about having to start his hours-long mold experiment from scratch.

Calleigh simply shook her head and checked her watch. She had to be at a hearing to testify about lab procedure in less than fifteen minutes. "If only everything was as exciting as community beep. Gotta go. See you guys later."

"Later."

"Bye, Cal."


	16. Not Just Lipstick

A/N: You earn points if you know the background to this story!

Title: Not Just Lipstick

Timeline: S.5-S.8

Rating: K

* * *

Natalia walked into the ladies room and promptly found the person for whom she was searching.

"Calleigh! Hey, I have to be in court in twenty, and I can't find my lipstick. Do you have some I can use?"

Did she really even have to ask? How long had she worked with Calleigh Duquesne? The woman was like a walking advertisement for MAC: sleek, stylish, and always unexpected.

"Of course I do," Calleigh stated matter-of-factly. "Come on."

Quickly, the two CSIs made their way out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and past Tripp and Delko standing outside the door of the ballistics lab. Finally, they reached Calleigh's desk, where she magically produced a bag of makeup that would have made a professional artist proud.

As her friend searched for the perfect shade of lipstick, Natalia stared at the kit in awe. "I will never understand how someone as low-maintenance as you can love makeup so much."

"Hey, I can get ready in under ten minutes. And I haven't checked a carry-on suitcase in years. So I like to look pretty… 'Berry Madness,' or 'Cocoa Loco?'" Calleigh held a tube of lip gloss in either hand for Natalia to decide between.

"I honestly don't care," she laughed. "It's just lipstick." Calleigh had a knack for picking the right colors; Natalia was sure she'd look great in anything the firearms expert chose for her.

"Just lipstick? Oh, honey."

"Don't 'oh, honey' me, Calleigh. I never wear makeup. And you—have you ever worn the same lipstick twice?"

"Not in the same year…" Cal grinned. "Here, Cocoa Loco it is."

Nat dabbed some of the balm on her lips, smacked them softly, and smiled for Calleigh's approval. "Very nice," the blonde said.

"Thanks. K, gotta go. Are we still on for dinner tonight?"

Calleigh packed up her things as Natalia walked backward out the door. "Yeah, but can we push it back to seven-thirty? I need to catch up on my cases."

"No prob. Later, Cal."

"See you later. And you look great in Cocoa Loco!" Calleigh shouted down the hallway, not caring that everyone stopped and stared.

As she was clearing the rest of the makeup from her desk, Delko peeked his head around the edge of the doorway. "Personally, I would have gone for Berry Madness, but that's just me…"


	17. Surveilling

_3/7/11: "Surveilling" is me trying to remember how to write! Not character-perfect by any means, but a fun one to work on :) Check out my profile for a brief Author's Note about my ongoing projects. _

* * *

Title: "Surveilling"

Timeline: Post Season 3

Rating: K

* * *

How long are we going to sit here?

We haven't been here all that long, Ryan.

Cal, the whole team is chasing down leads and we're stuck here doing nothing.

We're surveilling.

That's not a word.

Yes, it is.

Sur-veil-ling. No, that is not a word. Give me your phone, I'll—what was that?

Neighbor. Seriously, chill.

Ugh. This is crap.

Ryan…

I'm sorry! But why do Delko and Tripp get to go knocking down doors, and I'm stuck in a stuffy car with you watching a door that's not budging.

Because Delko and Tripp aren't little boys who whine about being cooped up in small spaces with a _girl_.

Hey, Cal—that's not, I mean, you know I didn't…

Shut up and surveille, Ryan.

* * *

What was-? Nevermind.

Cat.

_Third _cat. This is crap.

Ryan…

What? We've been here for hours. We're wasting our time.

Patience is a virtue.

Thanks, mom.

* * *

This is crap!

Ryan.

Calleigh.

Ryan.

Calleigh.

Stop it.

Cal, I'm bored. I have to pee. Rollins isn't going anywhere tonight, we've got a tracker on his car, and I have to pee.

Good, God, Ryan. You've been on stakeouts before. What is your deal?

I have to pee.

You mentioned that. Be a man. Pee in a cup.

No way! That's weird.

You gotta do what you gotta do, Wolfe.

There's no way I'm letting you hear me pee.

Ryan! Will you ple—binoculars!

What?

Give me the binoculars, now!

* * *

Mr. Wolfe, Ms. Duquesne—good work.

Thank you, Horatio.

Yeah, thanks H. It was a team effort. I mean, Rollins being set up—who would have thought? I just wish we hadn't wasted so much time busting down doors on this one. Just a matter of a sharp eye in the end.

Well, it was a great catch. I'm glad to know I can count on you and Calleigh.

Absolutely, H. You know what they say, patience is a virtue.

I know who to call on to surveille from now on. Great work. Listen, you two have had a long night. Take the day. We'll see you tomorrow.

* * *

I told you it was a word.

Whatever, you just have to be- wait, what did he mean, from now on?

What do you think he meant, Mr. Pillar of Virtue?

Aw, man. This is _crap._


End file.
